


Filling an Empty Chamber

by ThirdPretender



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, POV Solas, Sexual Fantasy, solo solas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 04:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdPretender/pseuds/ThirdPretender
Summary: Solas overheard the Inquisitor calling his name. Alone, he sorts through his feelings.





	Filling an Empty Chamber

Solas stared at the iron bound door, only the first of many barriers between himself and the Inquisitor. One he himself had placed between them, of necessity. What he had heard moments earlier drove home the need, and yet… he closed his eyes and forced a breath from his lungs, "And yet." 

Rubbing a long-fingered hand down his flushed face, he approached the bed and sat upon its edge. It acquiesced to his weight while he struggled with the mental image of the Inquisitor, hand between her own thighs, head thrown back. In the throes of ecstasy, she had called  _ his name.  _ "Fenedhis!" 

Standing up, he struck the wall with the flat of his hand and began to pace, hoping to burn restless energy and dissipate the distracting tightness in his groin. It did not work.

In his minds eye, he stood once again outside the Inquisitor's chambers, the books he had come to deliver clutched white-knuckled in his hands while he strained to perceive the sounds within. He had sighed then too, defeated, and pressed his back to the wall. Solas had told himself that he had sought calm in the cold stone, not to eavesdrop. But then why had he closed his eyes and listened? Why had he imagined crouching over her, drawing her hand away, and placing glistening fingers into his mouth while he sheathed himself -

"Fenedhis lasa!" He reached up and jerked the collar of his undershirt open as if the release of fabric would free his demons, but no. He knew what he had to do.

His frustrated motions became deliberate. Rather than popping buttons in haste, he carefully unclasped his belt, divested himself of his outer sweater, then unbuttoned the rest of his under tunic until he could slip it off. With precision, he folded the garments and laid them aside. Only once they lay neatly on his pillow did he run his palm over the disagreeable bulge in his pants.

"It will not matter," Solas told himself aloud as he unwound the leg wraps and placed them atop the rest, "She will never know." 

Drawing his legs up, he inhaled deeply, detecting his own musk, then cupped his length in his hand. The shaft warmed his palm, encouraged by the memory of the sweet sounds she had made while thinking she was alone. He thought of her honeyed mouth on his, opening to accept his to tongue. Her breath would be clean, but smell undefinably of woman as he knew she did. She would move down, he thought, until her hot mouth replaced his fist, working him up and down.

He wouldn't let her bring him too close too soon, he decided, moderating the regular strokes and licking his palm to ease matters. He'd stroke her silken hair until it felt like  _ this _ , then he would gently grip her locks. He'd draw her off, eyes locked, then firmly roll the length of himself atop her. She would make that sound he'd overheard while he brought their bodies together, claiming her mouth once more. Her slender body would feel like strength sheathed in velvet - he grunted, tongue touching his lips, and slowed again.  _ Too soon. Too soon. _ He changed his breathing, forcing a moment of relaxation and imagining their hearts beating in tandem. He imagined the heat between them and the scent of her desire embracing him.

When he knew the danger had passed, he resumed stroking himself somewhat rougher. Now he saw himself rubbing his crown against her flush folds until she whimpered. He would make her beg, wait until she said his name, then he would finally thrust into her, calling her name in return. 

Sweat broke out on his chest and brow, fist tugging faster. Eyes closed, he tilted his head back, giving her access to his throat, a gesture he would risk for no other than her even though she had no hope of recognizing the offer. 

Instead, her own head would fall back, and his mouth would claim hers while he took her by the hips and drove deep.  _ There. _ "Yes. Yes." He whispered for her, imagining her eyes opening on his face. She looks back, mouth slightly swollen, pupils wide, and the flush of passion heightening her color. She would cling to him and moan, "Solas!" He would grunt in reply, "I- Ar lath ma."

He groaned his release into the empty chamber, heart pounding with fantasy. Her echo haunted him as he gave up and wiped his chest with the precisely folded shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> A sincere thanks to my many beta readers who provided ideas as well as corrected my inaccurate knowledge of the male POV.
> 
> This piece was a result of a friend giving me her smut and asking me to finish it. Alas, it sort of veered off on its own ... hopefully to a good place.
> 
> This is also the second time I have ever, in my whole life, written smut. If it's good, please tell me or leave me a kudo. If it's not, concrit is welcome, just please be mindful that I'm building confidence to write this sort of thing.
> 
> Thank you for reading my work!
> 
> Sincerely,  
> ThirdPretender


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